


To the Boy Who Wears Jack Wills

by darcember



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 07:06:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5903584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darcember/pseuds/darcember





	To the Boy Who Wears Jack Wills

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rachelskaikru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachelskaikru/gifts).



Today I saw a boy at school  
Who has really pretty eyes.  
He walked into my English class  
and stumbled by surprise.  
"Oops!" I chuckled at the curly-headed boy.  
"Hi!" he replied, smiling with his coy.

"This is a new student," Principal Steve professed,  
"and he will be joining your English class."  
"Couldn't 've figured it out, could we?"  
I muttered, my voice dripping with sass.  
"Why don't you introduce the boy, to us, sir?" asked the Principal, catching on.  
". . . or are you not aware of the culture he does don?"

" _Ooh_ ," teased Cindy, my "Wendy" costar in _Peter Pan_ ,  
"Can't fly away from this one, Pan," her mouth smacking with gum.  
"And _what_ , exactly," I leered back,  
"Would I be flying away _from_?"  
I arose from my chair, confident and chill,  
despite the fact that I knew Curly's looks could kill.

"This, here," I began, putting my hand on the small of his back,  
"is--" I paused, studying the pretty boy to my left.  
He's slightly shorter than me, but everything about him is curly,  
from his chocolate, swirly locks to his smile, making my feet a heft.  
"Mr. Curly Styles," I smiled warmly, poking Curly's dimples that arose.  
The class spilled over in laughter; I closed my eyes, smiling towards my toes.

Principal Steve shook his head, scoffing with a bold voice,  
"This here is Harry Styles, and he just moved here from Cheshire."  
"Are you sure it isn't Curly? Or--what's a homonym to curly--Carlos?" I inquired.  
It seems Principal Steve didn't quite see the allure.  
"You can seat yourself now, Louis," Principal Steve sighed with reprieve.  
I skipped back giddily as the principal went to leave.

"In that case, we'll find you a seat: anywhere in the back," Mr. Dublin monotoned.  
Curly nodded, pulling his sleeves down and scuttling across the floor.  
He chose the seat two to the right of me and immediately shoved his earphones in.  
The whole class he seemed unusually anxious to get out of the door.  
Once the bell rang and he ran out as fast as he could,  
I became perplexed with why, in mid-summer, Curly was wearing a Jack Wills hood.


End file.
